Unusual Situation
by MyLadyLorna
Summary: The Wraith haven't given up on their desire to find Earth. What better way to do so then by torturing the members of the Atlantis team? Starting with John and Teyla. Set somewhere between seasons 2 and 3. SHEYLA
1. Chapter 1

**Unusual Situation: Chapter One**

**Disclaimer: **The characters from_ Stargate Atlantis _belong to the franchise for _Stargate Atlantis ™_. I do not claim possession of any copyrighted characters. Any and all other characters belong to me and may not be used without my permission.

**Rating: **PG13 (for potential violence and torture)

**Relationship: **John and Teyla

Chapter one. I'm already a few chapters into this story, but am only posting them one at a time. It'll give me enough days to finish it and finish I shall. Remember, positive reviews inspire writers to continue their work and I'm no different. Please R&R!

**CHAPTER ONE**

Teyla's enthused grin lessened John's humiliation as he picked himself up off the floor, forcing himself not to wince at the ache in his hip. Placing one hand at the small of his back, John stretched out the kinks. Teyla stopped circling him, not even breathing hard, while he panted for oxygen.

"I know one of these days I'll remember to watch for that move." He groaned.

An even broader smile beamed across Teyla's face and she lowered her training sticks to the floor and placed both hands on her trim hips. The stiffness of his muscles only seemed to further amuse her and John began regretting the three weeks he'd spent in recovery from a strained tendon.

"Perhaps your training will be complete when you learn to expect the unexpected, Colonel. That remains your only weakness."

She was deliberately taunting him and John's lips grimaced as he rolled his neck.

"Is it just me, or does it seem like I've been gone for more than three weeks?"

Teyla laughed lightly in agreement. "I must admit, Colonel. I had expected for you to remember at least the most basic maneuvers."

"Yeah, well, look at you. Here you are, picking on an injured man! Now, is that fair and equal combat?"

Her chin rose an iota as her eyes narrowed. Snatching up the sticks again, Teyla twirled them expertly into the air, ending with one pointed at him.

"Colonel, if you are failing it is not through the fault of your teacher. Now come, I know you are capable of more prowess."

Groaning, he retrieved his own weapons, assuming a stance of preparedness as she eyed him readily, hands extended and features revealing none of her true emotions. Just as she would a true adversary. Sparring with Teyla continued to be one of the highlights of his time on Atlantis._ True, I rarely win, _John thought ruefully,_ but that isn't the point of the exercise. _He ducked a subtle charge aimed at him and managed to tap her lightly on the shoulder while she twirled to face him once more, slit skirt floating with her effortless movements.

Not known for retaining lasting friendships, it surprised him that Teyla wriggled past his natural defenses and that his own emotions connected to her so solidly. At times he thought there might be something more to the relationship. That dangerous prospect though was something he could not afford to linger on. But he was never more tempted to pursue a relationship than when they sparred. With his emotional guard lowered, he allowed himself to admire her slim, attractively clad figure and sparking eyes. She understood him better than anyone else.

Her weapon tapped him solidly on the back, sending him stumbling forward and collapsing with one knee on the floor, effectively shaking that runaway train of thought. Turning, he caught the amused expression in her eyes as she continued circling him, already anticipating his next move.

He attacked solidly, lashing out in a move which she easily deflected.

"You are not concentrating, Colonel Sheppard," She admonished.

"Maybe not," he responded, eyes darkening mischievously, "but neither are you!"

Delivering a powerful spin kick, he knocked one stick from her hand, followed through and got within range to snatch her arm and flip her to the ground. Her brown eyes stared up at him in astonishment, barely inches from his face. This was one of those rare moments John treasured. It took a lot to catch Teyla off her guard and it almost never happened with him.

"Indeed, Colonel Sheppard, "she gasped as he extended an arm to help her stand. "Perhaps it is I who need refining and not you."

"Naww, I just got lucky. Believe me, you'll sleep soundly tonight while every bone in my body reminds me of how out of shape I am." He completed his complaint with a wince that drew a twinkle from her eyes. The training session complete, she bowed her head to him, patiently awaiting his forehead against her own. Unobtrusively wiping any perspiration from his skin with the back of his hand, John leaned his forehead against hers, accepting the sign of respect from the Athosian people.

"Colonel Sheppard?"

Elizabeth's voice echoed from the intercom affixed to the wall and he grimaced, wanting only to wash up and collapse into bed. Instead, he accepted the towel Teyla tossed toward him waving as she exited the training room. Replacing the radio firmly in his ear, he tapped it twice and responded with, "This had better not be important, Elizabeth, because I'm still on recovery and after my training session with Teyla I doubt if I'll ever move again."

Instead of responding with a joke as was her usual custom, Elizabeth's voice reflected urgency as she reported, "I'm sorry for the interruption, John, but this is important. Major Lorne's team missed their five-hour check-in. The last we heard was of possible Wraith activity on the planet. I need your team."

"We'll be there in five minutes. Sheppard out."

Any aches and pains vanished instantly as John hurried down the hallway, dodging various pedestrians. A hand snatched at his arm as he dashed past the infirmary, effectively detouring him. Dr. Beckett eyed him determinedly, his white lab coat as pristine as his office and medical implements. Even before John could voice a protest, he determinedly pushed a vial of medication into John's hand.

"Ahh, there you are, Colonel Sheppard. Now, I know you don't appreciate pain medication, but Teyla reported that you were in more than your fair share of pain. I will not take no for an answer."

Pocketing the medicine, John shrugged. "Well, Doc, I don't have time to argue with you, but this is the last time. I'm never going to recover to full strength if I'm always having to work off the drugs in my system."

"And how will you react on the field if you're in pain, Colonel?"

John's eyes rolled. "Doc, that's up to you to fix when it happens. Don't worry about preventative measures."

John dashed down the corridor toward his quarters with Carson's frustrated sigh echoing in his ears. Carson only had his best interest at heart, John knew, but his time as an invalid was over. _No more pain meds,_ he promised himself. But, just to appease the good doctor, he'd pack the blasted pills with him.

--------

In five minutes, as promised, the Atlantis team waited by the gate. Teyla, fresh and ready for their mission; Ronin indifferently securing a knife to his pack, Rodney working up a vociferous complaint; and finally John watching his team confidently. Elizabeth strode down the steps to join them, her hands loosely held at her side and eyes betraying her concern for the safety of Major Lorne and his team.

"Use extreme caution. This is not meant to be a confrontation between the Wraith and us. We will dial the planet every hour for updates and I expect you to be there to answer." She met John's gaze directly with her last forceful sentence and he nodded, a swift, precise jerk of his head.

"If I may interject something here, this is a bad idea! Not only do we not know the status of Major Lorne and his team, but we are also entering an alien atmosphere that is known for its hibernating indigenous Koreith plant-life capable of swallowing human beings whole." Rodney's voice rose higher as he spoke, shifting his pack a little higher on his shoulders and looking overall, highly annoyed. Ronon stared at him in silent fascination while Teyla resisted the urge to smile.

John yielded to a snappy comeback, stating, "Well, Rodney, if that is the case and man-eating weeds inhabit the planet then you can hold them at bay while we run for the gate."

"Ha ha, very funny, Colonel. I am not amused!"

"Somehow, I didn't think you would be." Waving his hand toward the gate, John commanded, "Now, let's move!" Teyla's gaze betrayed her amusement as she met John's glance before stepping through the gate, followed by the rest of the team, John last of all. He gave one final look at Elizabeth, standing with hands clasped and back erect, noted her uneasy expression, casually saluted, and stepped into the event horizon.

--------

For all Rodney's concerns, the planet seemed largely uninhabited, yielding no vegetation of any consequential size to suggest carnivorous activity. And, John noted, it didn't yield any evidence of Major Lorne and his team either. The MALP stood beside the gate, absently humming in standby mode, its camera blank.

"Major Lorne, this is Sheppard, come in."

The static crackle of his radio was the only response. Tapping his earpiece, Sheppard stated, "I repeat, Major Lorne, come in. This is Sheppard." Again only silence, drawing the concerned glances of the rest of the party. Rodney crossed his arms, suspiciously eyeing every plant within a ten-yard radius.

"Ronon, what have you got?" John inquired of their burly tracker as he knelt beside subtle indentations in the ground. Ronon's fingers barely brushed the grooves before confidently saying, "They headed west." and standing to his feet, rubbing the dirt from his fingers.

"The tracks are about five hours old. Single file. No urgency. It was deigned to be a simple reconnaissance mission."

Teyla's eyes narrowed in concern. "Then something must have happened."

Tugging his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, John surveyed the area, replying, "Yeah. They reported possible Wraith activity three and a half hours ago, but we've received nothing since then. Let's keep alert." Ronon's features betrayed the ridiculousness of such a reminder, but John ignored his masculine sensitivity and gestured for him to lead the way.

Heat from the sun's rays penetrated the ozone layer at a high velocity, drawing perspiration from everyone and general complaining from Rodney. Digging loudly through his bag, McKay finally produced a can of sunscreen lotion, his own recipe and proceeded to liberally douse himself with it. Offering it to everyone else, he received only amused glances for his efforts, and John waved a hand before his nose in an attempt to diffuse the potent fumes.

"McKay, you're not going to melt in the sun."

"Oh no? I've always found that it is better to be safe than suffering from radiation."

"We've already been through this once before. Rodney, a few hours of heat is not going to kill you." _I knew I should have snatched that stuff when I had the chance_, John silently lamented.

"Sheppard!"

Picking up the pace, John reached Ronon's side in several long strides, ignoring the pain in his sensitive hamstring tendon. Pointing to various rufflings of the ground vegetation, Ronon matter-of-factly stated, "There was a battle, and it did not last long. It would appear that Major Lorne has been captured."

"Who did the capturing, Ronon? Can the leaves tell you that?

Muttering loudly to himself, Rodney slapped at an insect making its way toward his neck and then fell suddenly silent. So suddenly that John spun to stare at him, even as Rodney pointed toward the trees, emitted a high-pitched squeak of warning, and fell unconscious from the stun of a Wraith blaster.

Lasers lit the air, trails of steam escaping the holes burnt into the trees. John yelled for his team to take cover even as he rolled toward a tree himself, diving beneath the abundant leaves. Ronon's weapon flashed brilliantly before a stunner caught him directly in the back, bringing him down hard onto the mossy ground.

"Colonel!" Teyla cried as she fought off the sudden attack of two Wraith before a glancing blow at her neck brought her to her knees. Brown eyes wide in pain and shock, the second blow knocked her unconscious. As she crumpled, John leapt to his feet, dodging Wraith fire and pumped as many bullets as possible into the warriors. The metallic sound of the lead careening into their armour filled the air and he took down two, three, four Wraith, and then the numbing black of the stunner sent him into deep oblivion.

--------

Light barely penetrated his eyelids, but it was enough to convince John that he was indeed awake. As if the light wasn't enough, his aching body reminded him of it a second later and he groaned. It hurt even to move his arms, but he managed, lifting a hand to his rumpled matt of dark hair to find the finest stream of encrusted blood clinging to the brown strands.

"Colonel?" A pained voice whispered at his side and John became even more conscious of a soft form beside him, the movements of Teyla's breathing shocking him into movement. Rolling away and to his feet, John swayed unsteadily for a few moments, the room spinning before his equilibrium finally returned. It was a Wraith cell with the spidery enclosure securely locking them into the cage.

His only companion seemed to be Teyla. She sat with her back against the chilled porcelain blue walls, her features pale as she held one arm close to her body. Kneeling beside her, John gently touched her shoulder, inquiring, "You all right?"

Her head shook in the negative, soft hair feathering around her pinched features. "I am afraid not, Colonel Sheppard. My arm may be broken or at least severely strained."

"Now, I'm the one who's supposed to be injured here. If we're all out of commission than who will come flying in to save the day?" He teased in a strained voice, attempting to relieve the fear welling in his own mind and reflecting in her face. Brushing her hair off one shoulder, he gently touched Teyla's cheek where a painful welt rose against her beautiful bronzed skin. She winced in reflex as did he.

"Where are the others?" He questioned urgently.

"I do not know." Pointing through the webbed door, Teyla gestured toward the hallway curving to the left and away from their position. "I have seen two Wraith pass through that corridor several times."

"How long was I out?" He asked, dark eyes certain he wasn't going to like the answer.

"Several minutes, perhaps an hour since I awoke. You looked quite comfortable." Her tone teased him, but neither was in the mood for much levity and her face returned to its serious expression almost instantly. John gently handled her arm, stretching it out so he could see it fully despite the sudden grimace of pain on Teyla's face. It was swollen, the forearm almost twice its original size.

"Well, I don't think it's broken, but you won't be using it for awhile. Our training sessions will have to wait. Maybe by the time you're healed, I'll have had enough time to brush up on my technique." His shirt would have to suffice for a bandage. Gripping the bottom edge, he tore it into as straight a strip as humanly possible leaving a ragged edge behind, offering the barest glimpse of his muscular midriff.

"Colonel, I do not intend to be incapacitated long enough for you to best me in a match. Perhaps if I were debilitated for a year you would stand a chance, but not for mere weeks." Pain infused her last words and Teyla's entire body stiffened as John fashioned the sling around her arm and tied it to her chest.

"Har, har." He reciprocated even as he mentally chastised himself for hurting her.

One solitary tear, the only one she would allow, slipped from the corner of her eye. An ache formed in his chest to see her cry and he tenderly wiped it away, allowing the rough pad of his thumb to rest on the soft skin at the corner of her eye. She met his gaze directly, moisture hovering barely below the surface and his breath caught. John had looked at her before, but never this closely and never this long. It felt as if he stood at the edge of a great sea; one promising warmth and love and companionship. Things he'd always craved but never dared allow into his dreams.

Footsteps resounded in the corridor leading to their cell and he inhaled a steadying breath, backing away from her and facing the door. Two guards and a Wraith lord stalked toward him. The lord's hungry gaze devoured him, diminishing him to the sole purpose of offering sustenance to these unspeakable monsters.

Teyla moaned as she straightened, drawing her knees under and pushing herself to a standing position. Merely reacting, John wrapped an arm around her waist for support before realizing the implications to himself, Teyla, and the Wraith. Any weakness provided an insight for the Wraith and this lord didn't seem a fool as he eyed them in demonic satisfaction. Even Teyla's grasp upon his arm felt weak and John's tremor of trepidation lengthened as he stared into the emotionless eyes of their captor.

The lord hissed for a few moments, his distorted mouth wide as he studied them, revealing rows of sharp translucent teeth. White hair was drawn back into a ponytail at the base of his skull, high forehead dignified and free of wrinkles. But it was the eyes that forever chilled its captives, hinting at unspeakable torment and finally, the sweet relief of death. And to John's horror, it stared directly at Teyla's pale direct features, for she refused to look away from him.

"Bring her." It hissed in a low, growling voice.

Teyla met John's eyes silently, emotionally strong as the Wraith guard, their masks concealing any expression, stepped forward. John immediately intercepted, snarling, "I don't think so." He suddenly knew how a bug felt before being squashed underfoot as one of the guard's snatched him by the front of his black shirt, hauling him up until his feet dangled in midair.

"Obviously, we're having a communication problem. Let me try again." John glared directly into the lord's cold eyes, stating succinctly, "You are not taking her. Do I make myself clear."

The creature may have laughed, John was never certain. But its fangs bared themselves even wider and a loud snarling hiss escaped its smooth white jowls. "You are weak, little man. When we are finished with her, it will be your turn and I shall savor your defiance." The lord nodded its head and the guard easily tossed John into a corner of the cell. His arms and legs smacked into the cold walls, his head spinning as Teyla was led defiantly from their cubicle.

Knowing the attempt was useless, John still latched onto a guard's arm, hauling him around and beating him about the head with one well-aimed punch. Pain flooded across his nerve endings, exploding in starbursts before his eyes. Teyla called his name, attempted an escape from her captor, and then he collapsed into blessed unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Unusual Situation: Chapter Two**

**Disclaimer: **The characters from_ Stargate Atlantis _belong to the franchise for _Stargate Atlantis ™_. I do not claim possession of any copyrighted characters. Any and all other characters belong to me and may not be used without my permission.

**Rating: **PG13 (for potential violence and torture)

**Relationship: **John and Teyla

Chapter two. Thanks everyone, for your wonderful reviews. It's good to know people are enjoying my little tale so much. Keep reading and keep reviewing.

**CHAPTER TWO**

Teyla's last glimpse of John was his figure crumpling to the floor unconscious. No personal fear invaded her thoughts, but she could not rid her mind of worry for the sake of the team. Harsh hands held her arms, bruising the sturdy muscles. Biting her lip hard enough to draw blood, she refrained from an agonized outburst when one of the brutes placed his thumb on her wound.

The corridor wound on for ages, cool lighting lending a dramatic atmosphere to the inside of the ship. Methodically counting the twists and turns down the passage, Teyla noted McKay's panicked face peering at her down the length of a short hallway. He remained silent, but did seem relieved to find another member of their team still alive.

The meeting room was empty when they arrived and shoved her harshly onto the platform where she tumbled to her knees. A soft shushing sound emerged from behind her, but Teyla did not turn, refusing to give the Wraith queen an emotional advantage over her. The queen circled until they faced each other, her lifeless eyes examining every inch of Teyla's resolved countenance.

"The loyalty you hold for these outsiders remains beyond my comprehension. Surely their safety is not worth sacrificing your own life." Her words were cold, but almost sympathetic to Teyla's plight.

Teyla felt an unwelcome responsive pang before she could stifle it. The emotional flicker lasted long enough for the queen's eyes to lighten. Her deep red nails scratched softly across Teyla's face, leaving no mark other than the horror of her touch. Refusing to be cowed, Teyla stared directly into the queen's eyes, her features hard as she twisted her skin away from the dead touch of those nails.

"No matter what you say to me, I have accepted the inevitable. And I will divulge no information about your new," she paused before continuing in a mocking tone, "feeding ground."

The creature's teeth tightened, but she soon relaxed, pacing before her prisoner and tapping her nails together. Each stride bore her gracefully across the room, gliding almost without the use of her legs. Her eyes were mesmerizing and Teyla now turned away from them, focusing her attention on the immaculate floor design, studying every grain of the tiling so as not to face the queen.

"Do not fool yourself into believing that he will do the same for you."

Teyla's head rose at the queen's matter-of-factedness, eyes flashing coldly as she stated, "I believe I know my companions far better than you. I will not betray them, and neither will they betray me. Your attempts at coercion will not work, so either feed upon me now or return me to my cell."

A befuddled expression crossed the queen's face, a furrow crossing her forehead while her neck tilted to one side. Studying Teyla even more closely than before, the queen knelt at her feet, her sharp nails turning Teyla's cheeks one direction and then another before murmuring, "You are courageous. Rarely have I felt such defiance from one such as you."

Glowing cool eyes sparked at Teyla and sent a lump through her throat. A mocking grin encompassed the queen's mouth, her teeth gaping in cruel delight. She drew back contentedly, nails clicking against each other as she gleefully proclaimed, "Yet, there is a weakness, both for you and your counterpart." The queen leaned in close, her icy breath brushing Teyla's cheek, whispering, "Perhaps you value each other more than you would ever admit. We shall see."

Emitting a high-pitched shriek of urgency, the queen turned away and awaited her guards to return Teyla to her cell. She struggled, wrenching herself free of their tight grip. But to no avail, Teyla earning herself only wave after wave of continuous pain through her injured arm as they squeezed it tighter.

"What of the rest of our companions?"

The queen did not bother facing her, simply striding into the darkness, her haunting voice echoing back, "They are well. For the moment."

Then she was gone and Teyla was half-carried, half-dragged down the corridor. Preparing herself, she wrenched free the moment a short hallway came into view. Dashing to the cell where she had originally seen Rodney's pale features peeking at her, she called his name, "Rodney!!" in desperation.

An arm extended through the webbed door, reaching toward her and Teyla launched herself the final few feet, just beyond the grasp of her captors. Ronon clasped her hand tightly, Rodney at his side. And behind them gathered the members of Major Lorne's team, alive and safe. Relief welled in her spirit and Teyla exhaled a long breath.

"You are well?" She gasped.

"We are well." Ronon replied.

"We are well? What kind of a response is that? Of course we're not well. In fact things couldn't be much worse. At least not that I can imagine!" Rodney snapped furiously.

This time, the guards held her arms pinned tightly to her side, practically lifting her between them and hauling her back down the corridor. "Rodney, now is not the time!" she called back desperately. "Do not worry!" His huff of irritation bounced off the walls of the corridor and in spite of their horrendous situation, the sound brought a smile to her face.

Roughly, the guards tossed her back into the cell where John still lay unconscious. A welt formed across his forehead and the slightest trickle of blood flowed from his right nostril. Clutching her arm tightly to her side, Teyla mentally withdrew from her own pain, focusing only on the colonel's condition.

Kneeling beside him, Teyla gently rolled him over onto his back. A groan escaped his throat and one hand barely rose as if to touch his head before it collapsed back to his side. Teyla hated this feeling of helplessness. Panicked thoughts pounded at the door of her mind, demanding entrance, which she desperately refused. But they still remained, lurking, awaiting a moment of weakness when they could burst through her dam of tears.

Tenderly, almost grateful he was unconscious, Teyla shifted to a sitting position, her back snug against the wall. With a solid pull, she tugged John's torso into her arms, his head resting against her lap. Since he had already begun the project of tearing his shirt for the purpose of treating wounds, Teyla furthered the tear. Ripping a small section, she applied the black stretch knit to the blood seeping from his nose, carefully avoiding the painful looking bruise on his forehead.

"How could we let this happen, John?" Teyla murmured sadly. "We knew of a possible Wraith threat and blithely walked right into their arms." Her head thunked against the wall, their combined breathing now the only sound in the chilled room. Her one relief was that everyone seemed safe enough, for the moment.

Fingers trembling, her hand lingered just above his head before finally, hesitantly, lowering to brush through his dark hair. It was softer than she had expected, yielding easily to her touch. Caressing a few strands back from his face, she studied him intently, sniffing back two tears attempting to escape. Thoughts of _if only_ whirled through her brain for a few moments before she locked them away again.

The silence dragged on with no captors coming to claim them.

Memory of a song he had once hummed in her presence came to mind. An infintessimal smile crossed her face as she relived the scene.

_His eyes had sparkled brightly at her, one corner of his mouth turning up in a crooked grin at her inquiry after the song's contents. Laying aside the sidearm he'd been meticulously cleaning, John stretched his arms behind his head, studied the vaulted ceiling of Atlantis and began to effortlessly sing. Teyla's busy hands stilled as she listened to him, committing every lyric to permanent memory._

_Love is a burning thing_

_and it makes a firery ring_

_bound by wild desire_

_I fell in to a ring of fire..._

_I fell in to a burning ring of fire_

_I went down,down,down_

_and the flames went higher._

_And it burns,burns,burns_

_the ring of fire_

_the ring of fire._

_The taste of love is sweet_

_when hearts like ours meet_

_I fell for you like a child_

_oh, but the fire went wild..._

_I fell in to a burning ring of fire_

_I went down,down,down_

_and the flames went higher._

_And it burns,burns,burns_

_the ring of fire_

_the ring of fire._

_A smile had crossed her features once he'd finished his impromptu performance. Such child-like satisfaction gleamed on John's face as to make her laugh. Pointing at her teasingly, he instructed, "Now that was a Johnny Cash song, and no matter what Rodney says about folk music, ignore him. There will never be anyone able to top Johnny Cash in country music."_

Pangs in her arm tugged Teyla back to reality. Images of the treasured guitar in John's quarters and the poster of Johnny Cash on his wall flooded Teyla's thoughts. It was only a replica of Johnny's guitar, he'd said, but it was his, and he even knew how it was played, having dedicated a few years of his young life to studious lessons. Once in awhile the lilting tones of a foreign musical instrument floated through the corridors near his living quarters. But she'd never intruded on his privacy. _The next time he decides to play, I'll be there, _Teyla decided, putting her faith in the hope of a next time.

Tilting her head back, Teyla recalled the lyrics to _Ring of Fire_ and softly began to sing, her clear, pure tones reverberating throughout their chamber. It brought comfort, lulling her anxieties away, finally putting herself to sleep.

--------

When Teyla's eyes opened, she knew not how much time had passed, for in these chambers, the light never altered, remaining at a constant blue hue. The weight of John's head was lifted from her lap and the unexpectedness of his absence jolted her into full wakefulness. Her legs, sturdy and strong, lifted her up, the wall as a support, eyes dodging about the room searching for his familiar figure.

To her relief, he leant against the webbed encasement, his hands testing the various strands for any notable weaknesses and apparently finding none. At her movement, John's head swiveled toward her and he was at her side in an instant, lengthy strides taking him across the chamber.

Gently, Teyla pushed away his probing hands as they moved to adjust her bandage, proclaiming firmly, "I am fine, Colonel Sheppard. But you were unconscious for so long that I had begun to worry."

He ruffled a hand through his hair, avoiding the now vibrant purple bruise on his forehead. Frustration gleamed in his brown eyes, lending him the appearance of a caged animal, something she fully understood and sympathized. Resting his back against the wall, John lowered himself to the floor and Teyla joined him, crossing her legs idly before her slender frame and resting her one uninjured arm on her knee.

"You know, the one thing I hate about these cages is their manufacturing. What I wouldn't give for a knife right about now. Hell, I'd settle for a hairpin, but I know you don't wear them."

"Sadly, no, Colonel. I never saw the use for a hairpin until now."

Hands shoved into his pockets, shoulders slumped against the wall, John appeared defeated and it brought a sharp ache to her chest. Never since she'd known him, had a situation affected him so severely. If he lost hope in their safe return to Atlantis, than there was no chance for survival.

Eyes downcast, she felt his gaze study her, but didn't bother meeting his stare. Clearing his throat, John visibly lightened the tone of his voice, saying thoughtfully, "It was the oddest thing. While I was unconscious, I swore that I heard someone singing _Ring of Fire_ to me. But that's not possible is it?" He winked at her and to Teyla's embarrassment a soft blush suffused her cheeks, almost hidden by her luminously tanned skin.

"You are imagining things, Colonel," she stated with a straight face. "Either that or your head wound is to blame."

"Hmm, maybe."

Shifting against the cold wall, Teyla winced in consternation as a shaft of pain rushed through her arm. Sighing, he reached out and gently ran a hand over her bicep, turning her to face him, which she deliberately resisted.

"I am fine, Colonel," she protested.

"Come on, let me see." John fiercely insisted.

Relenting at the determined tone in his voice, she allowed him to unwrap the bandage. Cradling her arm gently, John pulled the fabric away from her skin, revealing the extremely swollen limb, dotted with blood red, burnt orange, and turquoise blue bruising. The mottled appearance was enough to draw his brows together in concern as he rewrapped it, snugging the arm to her side once again.

"You are not going to use that arm, Teyla. Do I make myself clear?"

Turning his attention away from her own injury, Teyla blurted, "I spoke with Ronon and Dr. McKay. They are enclosed in a similar chamber down the hallway, along with Major Lorne's team."

John's eyes closed briefly in relief, before he questioned, "How did they look? Any unnatural aging?"

"Not that I could tell, Colonel. They seemed well, although I cannot guarantee that Dr. McKay will be conscious when we escape. Ronon's patience level was being severely depleted."

An amused grin flickered briefly over John's face, lighting up his eyes easily when he responded, "Why am I not surprised. Leave it to Rodney to irritate and otherwise infuriate his fellow prisoners. It's a miracle no one else has tried shooting him. I know I've been sorely tempted to in the past."

Echoing footsteps interrupted her response, pounding down the outside corridor and finally turning into their small, secluded hallway. John stood, back to the wall, ferocious anger raging in his dark eyes. Four guards and the same lord as before stood outside their chamber, the lord watching in glee as Teyla struggled to her feet, arm clutched protectively to her side.

John's whisper stirred her hair, "Just let me do the talking, all right."

In a brief sarcastic moment, she responded, "What good has that done us so far, John?"

He stared at her in disbelief as the lord opened their cage, the webbing vanishing into the wall with a wave of his sickeningly jaundiced hand. Before they were pulled apart, he muttered, "I'll think of something."

It must have been the same huge brute as before for his thumb deliberately pressed into her wounded arm enthusiastically. Biting her lip hard enough to draw blood, Teyla refrained from erupting into a cry of agony, even though every nerve ending in her body seemed ablaze.

John wrenched to free himself from the two guards clinging to his arms, but with no success. The lord stepped right up to him, invading personal space, as his animalistic eyes roved John's steadfast features. His fangs gleamed in the sickening light.

"She awaits you. Both of you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Unusual Situation: Chapter Three**

**Disclaimer: **The characters from_ Stargate Atlantis _belong to the franchise for _Stargate Atlantis ™_. I do not claim possession of any copyrighted characters. Any and all other characters belong to me and may not be used without my permission.

**Rating: **PG13 (for potential violence and torture)

**Relationship: **John and Teyla

Chapter three.

I know, you're probably all ready to kill me for slacking off for so long in writing this story. My sincere and most humble apologies, but I'm inspired, so here is chapter three. It will be finished by the end of the summer!

**CHAPTER THREE**

Thrust bodily down the hallway, fighting the entire stretch, John studied every curve of the passage, every side passage, even spying Ronon's features staring through the webbed partition of a second cage. Doing anything to give him an equal footing with the monsters leading him to a certain and equally unpleasant death. A fate he was not yet willing to accept.

The unnatural hue shading Teyla's cheeks concerned John deeply, but he couldn't do anything about her condition now. She met his eyes though, her gaze steady and unconcerned, though he knew it could only be a façade. Even he felt the coiled snake of fear poised in his stomach, waiting the proper moment to strike and steal his courage.

Blue light suffused the room they entered, highlighting the carefully chosen selections of furniture; a long table laden with choice amounts of food, and two chairs at opposite ends. The guards holding him in viselike grips deposited him firmly into one chair, securing a sturdy strap about his chest, and the others doing likewise with Teyla.

"Your hostess will join you shortly. She is. . ., "the lord paused, indulging in a demonic grin, "occupied for the moment. But I assure you, it will not be long."

Snarling out words in Wraith tongue, he and the attending guards vanished through the wide doorway in which they'd entered. Two remained outside at their appropriate posts. John imagined them staring into the room stoically beneath their headgear. The lack of eyeholes in their helmets always disconcerted him, but never so much as this moment. He gazed at them hard, but not even a flicker of their rippling muscles alerted him of any awareness of his presence.

"John . . .," Teyla's uncertain voice broke the silence.

Facing her, John whispered comfortingly, "No worries. At least not yet, just keep your hopes up and maybe we'll even have time to stop for lunch on the way home."

Her gaze focused steadily somewhere over his left shoulder and John immediately felt a cold chill slither down his spine and rest somewhere in the region of his kidneys. Every hair on the back of his neck tingled. Hating himself for it, John yielded to temptation and turned to his left, finding the queen's enormous eyes merely a foot away, her mouth gaping in a wide smile of welcoming pleasure.

"Yes, I am sure we can arrange for a little snack. You are, after all, our guests." Mockery lingered in every word, sending the chill zinging into the pit of his stomach. His eyes narrowed in disgust as she drew nearer, drawing a fiery red nail down the side of his cheek to rest at his neck, turning his head for her to study.

"I see why, from a human's standard, you are considered beautiful." Her eyes flickered toward Teyla, struggling helplessly against her bonds. "And why she refuses to betray your trust, not even for her own safety. It is foolish, of course, but our food is often considered reckless in their denial of the inevitable."

"Yeah, well, we might just surprise you." John hissed back at her, a painful sneer overwhelming his features as she squeezed his neck, her long nails clawing into his skin. Not taking the hint, he continued, "It wouldn't be the first time your lunch outsmarted you. So who's superior here?"

Teyla's horrified eyes glistened at him from the opposite end of the table, as the queen's grip tightened. Lights swam before his eyes, first bright, than slowly fading, one at a time, the room darkening, until, with a snarl, she vehemently released him. Gasping for oxygen, John gulped in deep drafts of air, leaning his head against the chair while she studied him.

"Why are you determined to anger me? You know that is not my purpose in bringing you both here. If it takes weeks and every member of your party, we will learn the whereabouts of your home world."

Rubbing his aching throat, John remarked, "Ah yes, your new feeding ground. It's remarkably simplistic of you to believe that any of my team would give away its location freely. I expected more from you."

Fingers brushed through his hair and a knot of revulsion inched across his forehead. Her touch was a caress, smooth and gentle, but every moment her nails contacted any part of his body was a moment of torture and torment. Twisting, John pulled his head away, leaving her fingertips to sweep through the spiked waves of his hair before resting on the high back of the seat.

"How pitiful you are; so weak and plaintiff," she purred.

The queen's vibrantly red tongue appeared between her teeth, causing a grimace of revulsion to cross John's face, narrowing his eyes and wrinkling his nose. A certain look in her eyes warned him beforehand, but nothing could possibly prepare him for the searing pain in his mind, drowning out everything but his own deafening screams.

She released him after only a few moments and John shook his head, struggling to reorient himself, a snarl upon his lips as he glared up at her. She merely smiled coyly, raised her fingers, and delivered another mind-blowing gust of agony into his brain. His head thudded against the chair cushion, back arching and nails gouging into the wooden arms of his chair, leaving splinters in their wake.

Finally, after what seemed eons, the torment eased and he slumped into his seat, held in place only by the cruel straps around his chest. Every nerve in his body felt pulverized and ultra-sensitive. When her fingers brushed across his ear, John wrenched his head away, struggling with every fiber of his being to regain control of his own bodily functions.

"Leave him alone!" vaguely echoed in the back of his mind, Teyla's voice he thought, but he couldn't hear anything, could barely see anything. His life was a blur, racing forward, dimmed by time, until he saw his potential future. She placed the image of a haggard and worn old man, years stolen from him, before finally, dully accepting his death.

"No," hissed forcibly from his lips, and John forced himself to meet the queen's eyes. "It won't be that easy. You can't wear me down with pain, no matter how hard you try. And I have a feeling that you've given me all you can without killing me. So what's next on the menu?"

It was a poor choice of words and John realized it immediately when her attention diverted from him to Teyla, sitting tightly clasped in her own chair. Only now, with his focus returning, did he notice the blood around her arms where they were bound, with her body, to her chair. Even from this distance, he spotted tears careening down her cheeks, something he had never before witnessed.

Horror-stricken, he gasped, "No," as the creature glided gracefully, one slow, tormenting step at a time, down the length of the table toward Teyla. The tears already appeared to be drying on her cheeks, and he knew they had been for him and his suffering. Now no weakness remained, merely a cold fury and defiance glinted in her eyes. If it had been Ronon bound opposite him, John knew that he would have spit at the queen's feet and undoubtedly received a blow across his face.

But Teyla met her gaze, having already suffered through one encounter with this menace and mentally preparing herself for a second. The queen leaned toward her and Teyla turned her eyes away, focusing upon the wall. Her voice, low and soothing, droned into the silence. John couldn't discern any of the words no matter how desperately he tried. Teyla's brown eyes glimmered in the blue lighting, meeting the gaze of her abductor directly. Her response was equally silent and indiscernible to his ears.

Whatever Teyla's words, the queen retreated, a shrill hiss resounding throughout the room, echoed by a wail of command. The stocky guards re-entered, no expression upon their featureless masks, gripping their weapons tightly to their side. A sharp snarl and shriek from the infuriated queen brought them to John's side. One unlocked his confines while the other held his shoulders firmly against the chair. No energy to resist remained in his bones and if not for the hands gripping him to the chair, he would have slumped to the floor once released.

Pitiless black eyes gleamed at him from the ferocious expression on its face as the queen stalked to within an inch of his eyes. Snarling lips revealed her grotesque teeth when she hissed, "You will not withstand me forever. I will wear you down, Sheppard. In so doing, you will be left with nothing, no friends, no love, no compassion, and no hope."

Coiling her knees beneath her, she leapt into the air and was gone into one of the numerous holes in the ceiling, leaving only the penetrable chill of her presence and threat.

Despite their attempts to restrain her, Teyla wrenched free of the guard's grasp of her injured arm, her stoic features revealing none of her pain. Her anxious face appeared in his line of sight and gently, she eased him upward, sliding an arm around his waist in support. Even knowing she wouldn't understand the quotation, he still managed to mumble, "I feel terrible."

A smile crossed her features and she began a reply but was interrupted by the harsh shriek suddenly echoing throughout the ship. It could only be an alarm and John immediately felt that elusive tremor of hope in his veins once more. The guards didn't noticeably react to the ear-piercing sound, but they did hasten the prisoners back to their cell.

Halfway to their miserable quarters, Teyla suddenly released her grasp on John's arm and shot off down a side walkway. She was instantly pursued by three Wraith while the fourth gripped John's arms tightly to his side. A room at the end of the corridor appeared to be her focus and she bolted inside a few steps ahead of the Wraith. They retrieved her almost instantly and a cuff across her cheek proved a harsh reprimand.

But she didn't respond except to glare and acquiesce to their roughness as two gripped her arms and lifted her between them. John glanced at her curiously, but she gave a miniscule shake of her head and he refrained from questioning her dubious endeavor. The alarm continued pounding through the halls and now rushing footsteps could be distantly heard. Once securely locked inside their cell, the Wraith about-faced and sped back up the corridor at an urgent pace, responding to the call of their queen.

"It seems all is not well in Wraith-land," John quipped even as his head pounded in unison to his heartbeat.

"And all is not well with you either, Colonel Sheppard. Now remain still." Teyla reprimanded sharply while she dug through one of the numerous pockets on her cargo pants. A triumphant expression crossed her face when her hand emerged with the bottle of Carson's medicine. Her conquest.

John grimaced, complaining, "Please don't tell me you risked serious bodily injury just to retrieve my pain medication."

Her normally warm brown eyes chilled him without words and he bit down on his tongue to refrain from any further venting of his frustration.

Instead, he muttered, "Sorry."

"Colonel, we cannot risk your health. It was worth any harm to myself if I could retrieve the medicine. Dr. Beckett informed me of its presence and wished me to make certain you actually used it. I saw the opportunity and used it my full advantage."

Easily pushing him to a seated position, she popped the cap off the bottle, fished out one of the long, white pills and extended it to him. Her expression left no room for argument. Grimacing, he downed it without liquid assistance, forcing back instant gag reflex.

"Your turn."

She paused from returning the bottle to her pants, querying, "Excuse me?"

"No way, none of that. I'm injured, but you're more so and I won't have a member of my team refusing medical attention. Now swallow."

With what appeared suspiciously as a sarcastic eye roll, Teyla obeyed him. Having never swallowed medication before, her eyes widened in shock at the uncomfortable feel of it in her throat. After several attempts, she finally swallowed and grimaced, replacing the bottle safely into a pocket.

In a disgusted tone, Teyla muttered, "Next time I shall not press you so hard."

"Good. Than neither will I."

"Colonel, our physical comfort was not my only reason for eluding our captors, if only for a moment." Triumph glinted in her eyes as she turned away from him for a brief instant before holding aloft a small dagger, easily recognizable as belonging to Ronon. "The risk was worth our one chance of escape, would you not agree?"

Struggling to his feet, John accepted the implement in silent wonder, shaking his head. She never ceased to amaze him. "Considering there is no such thing as normal circumstances, then yes, I agree. Just, do me a favor and try less dramatic and deadly approaches for our escape the next time."

"You are assuming there to be a next time, Colonel."

Lining the dagger along his eye for a visual path to the cage controls, John nodded distractedly, murmuring matter-of-factly, "Teyla, if there's one thing I've taken to heart about this job; it's to never be surprised. Never assume anything about a situation and never be caught off-guard at unusual circumstances."

The sharp steel point glinted toward the controls before Teyla's strong hand gripped his wrist. Her lips turned downward cautiously, encouraging, "Colonel, be certain about the alignment. A second diversionary tactic could prove most unpleasant."

"What?" His shoulders carelessly rose in a shrug. "Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you, Colonel, but not necessarily the accuracy of your aim when restricted by an injury." The words had barely escaped her mouth when John's adept fingers sent the blade flying from his hand. Its aim was true, the honed point piercing the Wraith technology and sending a surge through the system, effectively shorting out the cage. With a hiss, the webbed wall retracted in upon itself.

Relishing Teyla's open-jawed amazement, John grinned at her. "I thought you doubted me, Teyla. Just think if I'd been an inch to either side, our means of escape would have evaporated. But," a finger pointed teasingly her direction, "you did not consider that ever since our last experience with the Wraith and Ronon's knives; I've practiced regularly."

John swore that the smallest touch of a smile hinted at the corners of her full lips. But with impeccable concentration, she wiped it away and in its place stood the familiar composed expression of a female warrior. That effortless change always irked him, never more so than this moment. But it was hardly the time to chastise her emotional state.

"If you had told me before it would have made no difference in your ability, Colonel Sheppard. I am simply relieved that you held enough confidence to accurately disable the target."

"All right, but now what?"

He peered cautiously out of their cell, almost certain to hear approaching footsteps. But nothing disrupted the quiet, nothing except the beating of his heart and Teyla's suddenly quiet breathing. Utter stillness had descended upon their corridor, all of the Wraith having been summoned elsewhere.

"Am I the only one suspicious that our guards have vanished?"

Teyla's brows knit together uneasily, "No, Colonel Sheppard, you are not."

"That's good to know. How about we free Ronon and the others before any more unexpected surprises show up?"

"I could not agree with you more."

With Teyla standing just a few feet behind him, equally as wary, they cautiously proceeded down the corridor toward the cell containing Ronon, Lorne, and the rest of their team. Another issue bothered him, but he did not dare reveal it to Teyla. The Wraith had separated himself and Teyla from their team deliberately. But to what end, John could not imagine and that troubled him deeply.

Not one Wraith did they cross in their stealthy maneuvering towards the others. John expected an attack at any moment, only to continuously find himself and Teyla completely alone. It was as if the entire ship had suddenly swallowed its masters whole, leaving only the prisoners behind. But that situation could not last and so John forcibly pushed away his concern, remaining alert, and determined now more than ever to emerge triumphantly from the mess into which they found themselves.


End file.
